


Night Receded, Ebbed to Day; I Wiped the Stars From Your Face

by little raven (lonewytch)



Series: If You Must Burn Your House, Burn It In Love [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dream Sex, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Mind Control, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonewytch/pseuds/little%20raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has been avoiding Rory for almost a week, while he tries to figure out what has gone wrong and how to put it right.  When he discovers the full extent of the damage he's done to himself, he finally goes to face Rory to set it right.  But it doesn't go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Receded, Ebbed to Day; I Wiped the Stars From Your Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/gifts).



It was a subtle art form in and of itself, to spend time with someone, but to avoid looking at them directly at any given moment. 

Days brushed over them, passing by in a blur for him as though time had slipped its reigns and he no longer had a hold on it. He, Rory and Amy went out exploring and adventuring, stretched their legs on strange planets with purple sunrises and orange seas, and managed to stay out of trouble - for the most part. And all the time he studiously looked everywhere but at Rory’s piercing green eyes. He didn’t ignore him, not by any stretch of the imagination. He played at normal in every way but where the dance of his eyes fell. He became practiced at it - as he was practiced in so many ways at avoidance and at deceit, he thought ruefully - and as it drew close to almost a week since they had kissed, it became almost normal to live in a world devoid of Rory’s gaze. 

He would speak to Rory about anything that needed to be spoken about, would hold an entire conversation (though not about that, never about that) looking at the hard ground, at the sky, or turning his head away so that his eyes weren’t drawn like a magnet to the cool depths of Rory’s.

He would walk next to him, not looking at him, all the time feeling the human’s warm presence next to him, drawing him in like an the lure of open fire against cold skin - and how was it now that he always felt so cold whenever Rory was around? His skin felt like a wind was constantly whispering over it, raising goose bumps and lifting the fine hairs on his arms, making him feel chilled even on the most heated planets they visited together. He longed to curl himself into the heat and the blood of a human form, into the glow of this particular human body. Yet, when he was alone, he felt as normal as he had ever done, the temperature readings of his body unremarkable when he checked them.

There were times when circumstances fell so that they were both alone together. He tried to avoid them as best he could...but the minutes when Amy left the control room, chance meetings in the corridor, walking into a room where Rory was...these things were unavoidable. And in these moments he could feel Rory’s eyes on him, and it was a heat uncurling in his stomach, a soft tingling pressure against his skin. It was a question unspoken but hanging heavy in the air, pressing down on them both. It was everything he had already done but shouldn’t have, and all the things that he hadn’t done yet, which spun out in threads before him. 

And the dream...He tried not to think of it, not to remember the heat and the ache of it which made his mouth dry with wanting. The memory of it was a heated delirium that wavered at the edges of his memory. He had only attempted one more short nap since that dream, so full of Rory and his skin and the feel and the taste of him. And that 10 minutes of sleep had also been filled with hot damp skin against skin, the heat of the human’s mouth over his, Rory’s hand reaching to stroke down between their naked bodies, grasping him in the fire of his hand....

He had thought better of going to sleep after that. 

At night, instead, he worried endlessly over the situation. When Rory slept, wrapped tight into the rightful embrace of his wife, he set the Tardis spinning out into the vortex and searched both his own memory and the long and deep memory banks of his ship for information. He scoured the Library for anything, anything which would give him an explanation for why he had done what he had done, how exactly he had done it, and the gradual collapse he felt himself being pulled into. 

Only days had passed, yet he was no closer to seeing how he could undo the tangled mess of him entwined deep in Rory’s heart and mind. He remembered the threads of feedback firing back into him from Rory when he had touched him, how it had affected his own physiology, burning pathways into his brain. He looked at their timelines repeatedly, now converged into one path of fire which stabbed out straight ahead of him. Time can be rewritten. 

The most harrowing thing was this: that he tried desperately, urgently to feel truly sorry for what had happened, then found he couldn’t. He looked inside himself, and found guilt that snagged at his insides when he turned it over. But beyond that, and around it all was the overlay of RoryRoryRory, the feeling that just maybe the deep and cold loneliness that fate had shoved onto him could be assuaged in the fires of a human heart. He tried to understand that reaction, and when he couldn’t, he instead salved his conscience with feeling sorry about the fact that he wasn’t sorry. 

But...sorry or not, he knew intellectually that there were things he needed to do, things to rewire and fix and mend. He was a master of rewiring and mending the Tardis and she was infinitely more complex than a human, a real living breathing thing that responded to the connections he made and broke inside her. So it must be possible (he ignored the dull ache of sadness that came with the thought.) It was not un-salvageable, if it went no further. He could gather up the golden threads of their timelines into his hands again, rewrite the future - nothing was ever set in stone. 

Yes, Rory had kissed him -

_...and such a kiss, so deep and so wet , his lips on mine, pressing hard, his tongue a wet heat in my mouth...._

\- but he was certain that most of his manipulations still lay quiescent inside the human’s mind, still just lazily scratching at the surface. There was time yet - if it went no further. 

So he set to work, first with himself. 

His own bio-reactions had betrayed him far too often recently, slipped and eluded his control, and he needed to understand that. To not be master of ones own body - that was frightening (though, he reasoned, humans live like that for much of the time). Lying in the cool whites and chromes of the med bay he practiced controlling his blood flow, his heartbeat, his hormones, his internal chemistry. There was no problem there, his heart thudded more slowly when he told it to, his breath could come as deep and long as he willed it, his blood flowed where he pushed it. So what had happened in the Library? Why the jittering lack of control, why the betrayal of his own body? 

He put himself into a light trance, and then ran invasive scans all over his nervous system and brain, pushed himself through gruelling internal psychological assessments. And then he found the problem. 

_oh god...._

The feedback process that had occurred when he first touched Rory after putting him under his spell had looped back and then linked deep into him. It had cast out hooks that had sunk into him and then embedded themselves deep inside his his heart and mind. His brain had been re-patterened in such a way that he could not help but respond to Rory with lust, with need - it was hard wired into him now to do so. His senses, his nervous system were all tightly attuned to the human, keen to his scent and touch. His psychology - the most worrying thing - had shifted to lean gently towards Rory, with something beyond the primal fire of lust, something he didn’t want to read in the waving and dipping patterns of the psych reading. 

Time...that was all. He just needed time to work backwards on himself and on Rory, time to unravel, to un-make them both into what they were before. Time to figure out exactly how he would do that. Time and fresh knowledge of what - by now - was going on inside Rory’s head, how close he was to feeling what had been placed inside him, how intensely he was feeling it if he already was. 

So in the end, despite all the avoidance, all the dancing and the skirting around, he steeled himself to meet Rory’s gaze. To fumble through some explanation -lie - of how and why they had kissed - psychic pollen? And then to - somehow - press his skin against the fever of Rory’s again for just a moment and take another sweeping look into his mind. He waited for his moment. When Rory was up and about, he set the Tardis to let him know of the human’s location at any given time, and he began to watch the monitor obsessively. 

Now Rory was in his and Amy’s bedroom (and that shouldn’t make him feel cold - it was just a simple chemical reaction, sending ice into the pit of his stomach, making him shiver from the inside out); now Rory was in the shower (and the chemical reaction produced a heat spreading from the centre of his legs, and ache inside him and thoughts he could not control of wet sliding skin); now Rory was wandering the corridors like a lost ghost (the chemicals send signals racing through his nervous system, making fingers and legs twitch with longing to go and find the human in the maze of pathways and fold him close into his arms). 

Eventually, late one night - later than Rory would usually be awake - he checked the monitor at chance (it seemed he could not help checking, even when he know Rory would be long abed) and finally saw the soft red blip of light that denoted Rory’s living, breathing human form, inside the Library. His body mobilised of its own accord, sending him spinning round the console at a run, his hand tugging dangerously at levers he could not place in his excitement and rush. His mind raced ahead to what he would say, what excuse he would find to lay a finger - 

_just a finger, any more would be dangerous, nonono_

\- against Rory’s skin. What lie he would use to explain away the kiss... “ah, it’s all my fault Rory, a simple mistake.”..To jump across that barrier between minds, to quickly forge down again, to find a way - armed with information ,readings, diagnoses from the med equipment - a way to untangle, reset and fix. 

As he made his way down the corridor to the Library, he forced himself to slow to a walk, brought his breathing back down to a normal rate and brushed his fingers against the wall of his ship for comfort, evoking a soft crooning hum from her. His mind was ready, sharp, focused, controlled as he entered into the familiar smell of dust, paper and wood that hung within the Library. Sprawled out over one of the tables, cheek resting against the pages of some ancient volume, was Rory fast asleep and his mind was suddenly undone. He felt his heart take a dive into blackness -

_...no, but i wanted to speak to him so much, i was ready to look at him, at his face, his lips, his eyes...._

\- then forcibly pulled it back again. This was perfect . This was better. This was right - no danger from those piercing green eyes, no making of excuses, no chance of betrayal by his own body...this way was a good way to do it. Yet where he had pulled his heart back to was an ache, a sorrow layering itself into him, regret for a timeline aborted, a future unfulfilled, and a return to the grey loneliness that filled him up like smoke -

_Rory_

\- The human’s breath was a soft puff of air against the ancient faded manuscript his face lay against, his hands sprawled out in front of him as if reaching out for something, fingers twitching against the shining wood of the table. Soft moans were escaping his pursed lips, his brow creased as he frowned in his sleep, obviously dreaming, Well, this would make things easier - reach out and touch his cheek, slip within and drift past the flowing cycle of human dreams, behind to the subconscious, to the roots and structures there - look, observe, find the weak points, the places to untangle and unravel, wipe the memory of that kiss, and then - and then - everything would be fine and he could work on sorting himself out. Then, all of this would just be a fading memory left behind in the jumble of years stacked up behind him - 

_oh, Rory..._

Good. 

The Doctor looked at Rory for a moment, taking in his sleeping face, the soft pink of his cheeks, a little flushed in his sleep, the mess of his hair. The he pressed his own fingers to his mouth for a soft kiss, lips brushing the tips of his fingers, then reached down to press his fingers to Rory’s cheek.

From bone to bone and skin to skin he edged himself into Rory, down, past the serene black layers of sleep enfolding the consciousness, just hovering at the edges of a whirling maelstrom of a dream, getting ready to ready to push through it secretly, silently and sink down deeper into the dark, leaving tatters of the dreams behind...but...

...but as he ventured into the captivated dreaming mind of Rory Williams he found himself entangled. The dream closed around him, a net that crushed him in at first so that he felt as if he was disappearing, and then spread him out into Rory. Rory’s perception, Rory’s feelings, everything he could think and see, he could find no separation any more, could not tell the part where he stopped and Rory began. He was completely consumed by the roiling power of that dream, seeing through Rory’s eyes, touching through Rory’s dream-skin, hearing Rory’s dream muddled thoughts, feeling with Rory the emotions that welled up from his subconscious, seeping into his dreams....

_The room is white and bare except for the bed i lie on, but under the light of the moon through the window it is a glowing grey...I wait for him here. I would wait here forever, and everything could turn to dust, it wouldn’t matter at all, i would still wait, I already have waited forever, night following on from night, and never the sun on my skin.... i know he is coming to me tonight, at last, after i’ve waited and yearned for so long....so many nights consumed by the dark, eyes sore and unsleeping....lay under this cold moon for him for a thousand years, maybe more...lay back on a soft bed, body cushioned and warm, the moon shining over me, white-blue light....,_

Rory - 

_...the door creaks and then opens fully and then he is there at last.... silhouetted in the doorway....tall and beautiful, face like some kind of god...that’s what they called him, he told us once, the Lonely God... you don’t have to be lonely any more....i’m here for you...i would wait until all the stars died out, until the whole universe broke down...i don’t care...my heart is thudding, it feels like it will break out and consume everything around me, rattle the walls down...he is coming towards me, his hair is in his eyes, his cheekbones sharp and gorgeous...he kneels on the bed, next to me, leaning over me, his hair is tickling at my face as he mouths words at me that i can’t hear....maybe because i don’t have the right ears to hear him, maybe my heart is too loud to hear...tell me what you want to tell me Doctor...i’ll take it all from you...breathe it all in...._

Rory -

_...now....he is pressing his mouth onto mine...this is why i have waited here forever.... lips cool like his hands...lips cool like when i first felt them...mouth opening to slick heat and the glide of his tongue into me...oh god....he leads and i follow where he takes me, and i would follow anywhere, it doesn’t matter....his tongue is against the roof of my mouth, licking all round the back of my teeth...i am pushing my tongue against his, his hair soft against my hand....i am pushing hard hard hard against his head to get more of him into me... i just want to swallow him up, swallow him whole right here...Doctor, let me taste you...slide into my mouth... i need you to... i need you to touch me , to take me to the edges of the universe and back and you inside me all the way... i want you to open me up to you.....the room is shaking and shimmering...the edges of it are blurring like it’s a mirage...his hands are unbuttoning my shirt so deftly...so quickly.... they slide cool underneath....i am burning, i am on fire, but he cools me, palm pressed to my skin, fingernails scrape over my nipples, and i’m hard...so hard for him... i always am... i always want him... i have wanted him forever... i will always want him forever until i die...or until everything turns to ash...._

Oh god, Rory-

_...oh god his hands stroking down over my belly, cool against hot, tickling at the waistband of my trousers....everything spins and turns and the moon goes down at last... such a cold cold moon that has watched me every night.....his fingertips padding and pressing under the waistband of my trousers...and there’s a light through the window....the sun comes up as he lifts his face away and smiles at me....fingers busy on my trousers....please i want you so much.... i’ve waited so long for this....and the sun keeps on coming up...its heat and light are on my face...the heat of me so swollen and rising just for him...only for him now...his hand is around me...oh god....his fingers cool against my hot length, and he’s tugging and pulling... it feels like my head is full of the burning burning sun...it’s so bright....coming through the walls of the room...his hand wrapped cool on my cock, pulling tingles up and down me...as his lips go to my chest...kisses trailing wet...such delicious delicious lips....i want them around me, all over me, licking, kissing....and they are on my stomach...his tongue is tracing hot circles, bright as the burning sun...the light is coming through the walls.... the room shimmers, falls away...the walls have been burned up and everything is melting away except for him ...and here..._

Rory, can you - 

_...the light is all around us...there’s nothing but me and him and the light....it’s scorching my eyes and my skin...the cool of his lips and his tongue going lower....deeper down the line of my body....Doctor i’ve wanted you...wanted this forever....the light is so bright we are falling...falling through the light and the heat...oh god his lips are on me now, cool replaced by hot as he opens his mouth to take me in...heat running all over my body and inside me...and then...i am inside him...so warm and wet and pulling at my skin...i have never felt like this....his lips glide the length of me and his tongue licks and swirls around me...and we are falling through the light and the heat into the heart of the sun...his mouth is sucking at me, sucking hard and warm, sucking tight and wet...his palm cool and flat against my belly....this motion it’s like...like the waves coming and going...and i am pushing up into him...deeper and deeper...it could never be deep enough....i can feel his throat around me....he takes me so deep....the light so bright....thrusting up into him now....stroke by stroke...fire from his mouth right through me...fire from above and below....fire all around us...my hands in his hair, knotted and pushing him up and down onto me...._

-Rory, I

_...fucking his mouth so deep....that beautiful mouth....we are burning burning burning at the very heart of a star...is this what it feels like...to burn up....fucking into his mouth faster now, his mouth sucking so hard...is this what it feels like at the heart of a star...so sensitive, so aching, so hot, so wet...everything...it’s all breaking up....pieces of me burning and dropping away....fucking into him so hard...so fast...and the light...the light...oh god oh god oh god....._

The contact from skin to skin was suddenly broken as Rory jerked his head away from the Doctor’s hand. He was suddenly reeling, back safe inside the borders of his own skin and mind, knocked sideways by the intensity of the human’s dream. His cock aching and heavy seemed to pull his whole world around it with an uncontrollable rushing tingle, as he fought with himself not to cum right there. The human was jerking and moaning in ecstasy in his chair, his head thrown back now, the smooth lines of his neck exposed pale in the low light of the Library. He was thrusting his pelvis up, back arced against the hard back of the wooden chair, his fingernails digging into the arms as a rush of moans burst from out of his lips. The Doctor braced himself with both hands on the table, leaning over it and silently swearing as he tried to think of something, anything to stop himself. But the sounds coming from Rory were too much for what was left of his tattered self control, and he felt himself cum with a rush inside his pants, his vision blackening with the intensity of it as he vainly tried to stifle the groan that escaped from his own mouth.

He looked up as soon as his vision cleared to see Rory still with his head thrown back, breathing heavily -

_he didn’t hear me...hasn’t seen me...can i get out without him seeing me?_

\- but in the very moment he thought that, Rory brought his head forward, startling violently when he saw the Doctor. He watched as the rush of crimson blood filled the human’s already flushed cheeks, took in his dilated pupils and the smell of both of them coalescing in the air. 

“Rory-”

“Doctor,” the human interrupted in a rush. “I was having a bad dream.”

“Yes,” he agreed quickly. “I..er...i was nearby, heard you talking in your sleep, came to see what was the matter.”

Rory looked mortified, still breathing heavily. “What was i saying?”

He had slipped up. “Oh, nothing, nothing...you...it was just nonsense words.” He could feel shame flush to his own cheeks now. He’d barely even had time to process the intensity of the dream and his own orgasm, his mind still clouded and confused by being inside Rory’s mind and he was here, trying to think on the spot, hands clasped in front of his crotch. His brain moved lazily as he scrabbled for what to say. 

“Oh,” Rory was saying. “Well...sorry for disturbing you.”The human shifted awkwardly in his chair, clearly embarrassed, and clearly without any intention of confronting the Doctor about the kiss. He grabbed at the opportunity.

“Well,” he gestured at the book laid open on the table. “I’ll let you get back to it then. Or back to your dreams - er, i mean - back to sleep that is.”

“Okay.” Rory said quietly, looking down at the open book, clearly unseeing. 

The Doctor took the chance to turn his back to Rory and begin walking out of the library, only to be interrupted by his name.

“Doctor?”

He didn’t turn. “Yes Rory.”

“Are you sure you couldn’t tell what i was saying in my...my nightmare?”

“No Rory, not a word of it.” He was glad his back was turned, as he was sure at that moment the human would see both the lie and his guilt laid across his face like writing. He was sure too that Rory would clearly read all his lust, still beating through him with every thud of his hearts and shining out from his eyes.


End file.
